Broken Lies And Crooked Wings
by Alliana
Summary: AU. When a new student comes to school, Magneto realizes that he just may be the missing link to completing his vision. Meanwhile, a certain winged-boy is too stubborn to let this new student go without a fight... Angel/OMC. Slash, R&R. No flames.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own anything, I'm making no profit off of this. The only thing I own is Nate Quilkens, and even that's only partial-ownership. Here lie male/male, m/m, yaoi, boy-on-boy, slash, so if uncomfortable with that or pairing a movie character with an OC, hit the back button, ya'll know where it is. This is set in movieverse, with Hugh Jackman and Halle Berry, after the last movie, and its AU, as in John (Pyro) is alive, he never joined Magneto, Jean and Scott are alive and happily in love, Professor X is alive, Wolverine is still all grouchy and hopelessy in lust (or love, whatev) with Jean, BUT Rogue HAS taken the cure.**

**Criticism, both good and negative is appreciated, but please don't be mean. If you wanna be negative, tell me what I'm doing wrong, tell me how to fix it, and I'll reply with a 'Thanks, I'll do that,' and I actually WILL do it. But if you say, 'Yo, thiz sTory SUKZ BALLZ,' or any other idiotic thing like that, the I will put your username up here in big, bold, all-cap's letters and I will put what you wrote, and then I will proceed to hurt your feelings, both up here and in my reply.**

**And I can do that, 'cause I'm the writer, and I'm just that mean enough.**

**Warnings: Language, slash**

**Disclaimer to flamers: Fuck. Off.**

**Enjoy!**

Nathan Quilkens stared out of his living room window, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. He winced as he felt his teeth scrape sensitive skin, and for the umpteenth time cursed this nervous tick of his. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair and got up, beginning to pace. He ambled his way to the kitchen and nervously poured himself a glass of water.

_Where were they?_

Yes, Nate knew that Ms. Ororo Munroe said that the people picking him up in his two-story house located in Bellaire, Texas, a small suburban area just south from Houston. He was going to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, mainly because he needed to be among other mutants. He had long ago been singled out by the teachers and students at his high school, and it was time for him to switch schools. He figured, Why not go to a school specifically designed for mutants? He'd fit in there, and wouldn't have to worry about some seven-foot jock sucker-punching him in the jaw on the way to lunch. He rubbed the green-black bruise on his lower jaw and grimaced. Wally Thorton punching him had been the last step. He had dropped out, called this mutant school, inforned his parents, and packed. His mother, who was a human, had cried and been disappointed, but not angry. His father, who _was _a mutant whom could sense when people were lying, had nodded and understood. He grabbed a drink from the fridge and made his way back to the living room, taking a swig of blue Gatorade. He heard the always familiar song 'Welcome to the Jungle' by the forever amazing Guns N' Roses play. Sighing, he lunged forward and grabbed his phone, not bothering to glance at the screen. It was either his mother, his father, or his annoyingly-preppy little sister, Annaleigh.

"Hello?"

"Hey, hon," his mother said.

"Hey mom," he smiled. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to call and tell you I loved you one more time before these people come to pick you up. Nate, are you _absolutely positive _you want to go to this school? I mean, for God's sake, its in New York! Can't you..."

"No, mom. I wanna go to this school. I need to. I need to learn how to control my power, and this school seems legit."

He heard his mother's short, abrasive sigh over the phone. "Fine, Nate. I just wish... Oh well. Whatever makes you happy, and this school does have a good educational system, I s'pose... But please be careful. I love you, Nate. Now I gotta go. I have to run rooms for Dr. Jaylin. Call your father and sister and tell them good-bye and that you love them, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, mom, I will. Promise. I-I love you, too," he said, his voice choking up.

"Bye, Natie. Lock the door before you leave and put the key under the mat."

He gave a gargled half-laugh. "Yeah, mom, will do. Bye," he whispered, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over as he heard the beep, indicating his mother had hung up. He hurriedly called his father and sister, who was shopping, and told them basically the same thing. By the time he was off and had his phone in his pocket, he looked at the time. Four, the time they said they would be there. Just as the minute hand almost turned to the one, a loud knock resounded through his house.

"Prompt, aren't they," he muttered under his breath. He opened the door, revealing two people and a black, simple car. The first man he noticed struck an imposing figure. He wore jeans and a simple, black button-up, but his visors and unsmiling face was intimidating. The other man, however, was much more relaxed. He sat in a wheelchair, and he smiled easily.

"Hello," the bald one said. He extended a arm. "I am Professor Charles Xavier. And you're Nathan Quilkens, am I correct?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, chewing in his lip again. "Uh, ya'll can call me Nate," he said, and mentally-grimaced at the Texan drawl that slipped through.

"Hello, Nate. This is a colleague of mine. This is Scott Summers." The aforementioned man gave a small smile, immediately relaxing Nate. He quickly grabbed the Professor's hand and shook it, then Summers'. He stood back and let them enter, and when they were comfortable asked, "So, can I get ya'll anythin'? Uh, water, tea..." He trailed off, shifting his weight.

The Professor smiled again and shook his head.

"I'd like a glass of water, if you don't mind," Scott said, speaking up for the first time. Nate nodded and went into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water and then leaned against the fridge, breathing deeply.

_Calm down. They're not gonna hurt you, you _don't _have to go with them, and they're mutants. They're not going to judge and freakin' condemn you, _he mentally chastised himself. He took another deep breath and shoved his nerves away. He figured most of this nervousness came from not smoking at all today. He didn't want to smell like smoke in front of the teachers. He confidently strode back into the living room and handed Scott his water.

"Thank-you," he said easily before taking a swig of it. Nate nodded.

"So, Mr. Quilkens," the Professor began. "Why do you want to go to my school?"

"Well," Nate began, his nerves instantly reappearing. He fidgeted before answering straight. "I got bullied and picked on a lot in my old school. Once people realized I was a mutant, well, ya'll know. I finally decided the last straw was when I got sucker-punched. I mostly just wanna be with mutants my own age, so I'm not having to constantly worry about people like Wally Thorton, the kid who punched me." He said it evenly and smoothly, and was suprised when his voice didn't wobble as expected.

"I'm sorry to hear about what happened, Mr. Quilkens, and I commend you for removing yourself and deciding to persue your education. Now, what exactly is your mutant power?"

"I can freeze time, and teleport wherever I want. I've, um, been to Egypt and Greece before, by teleportation."

"How very interesting. I think you'd make a wonderful addition to our school, Mr. Quilkens."

He grinned. "Thanks."

"And what do your parents have to say about this?"

"Mom's in Houston, workin' at the hospital there, and dad's in Austin at his lawyer firm. If need be, I can always call one of 'em and confirm for you," he said. "Plus, they said that since I turned eighteen they didn't hafta sign for me or anything..." He trailed off, uncertain again.

"Oh, you're eighteen. That changes things, Mr. Quilkens. If you'd like, then you can come with us now," the Professor said.

Nate took a deep breath and looked around once more. Damn, but he was going to miss home.

He should say no, he'd like at least one more day to say good-bye. He actually didn't _have _to go to this school. He could always apologize for wasting their time, and say he wasn't going to be going with them, that he was staying here.

"Yeah, I'd like to go now, please."

Warren Worthington lounged in his bed, admiring the soft, pink-ish light filtering in to his bedroom from the fading sun outside. He had just gotten back from flying, and it had felt _great, _being able to spread his wings like that and just _stretch. _He kept the window open, enjoying the soft breeze that came through it.

A knock sounded, and Warren looked at the door curiously. He got up and, after tucking his wings behind his back walked to the door and opened it. Scott Summers stood there, his face inscrutable as always. Behind him stood a boy, about five inches taller than him with shaggy black hair and tanned skin. Scott asked politely, "May we come in, Warren?"

"Sure," Warren murmured, stepping back and allowing them access.

"Warren, this is Nathan Quilkens. Nathan, this is Warren Worthington. He's going to be your new roommate, all right?"

"Oh, yeah sure," Warren said immediately. Scott just nodded and left. The door closed swiftly behind them. Nathan ran a hand through his hair and held out a hand, a smile gracing his features.

"Hi," he drawled. "'M Nathan. Call me Nate."

"Hi, Nate. I'm Warren," he replied smoothly, grasping his hand and shaking it. He ignored the little tingle that shot though his hand and arm from touching him, and Warren sighed. Figures he'd have to have a roommate who was not only cute, but Southern. Warren had no idea if the stereotype was true, but Southerner's were renowned for hating mutants, and well... Gays.

And as a gay mutant, he was at the top of the list for hatred.

He wondered if he should tell Nathan he was gay, then decided against it. Not worth the hassle, and he didn't want to creep the guy out when he realized he was still shaking his hand. He pulled it away from Nate's warm grasp and blushed slightly, muttering, "Sorry." Wonderful way to not creep him out.

"S'okay," Nate replied, and couldn't help but think about how cute his new roomie was. Of course, that little voice in the back of his mind cautioned him against thinking his new roommate was utterly hot (which he was), and besides, this guy practically oozed straight. His hair was a perfectly styled blonde, and his skin was smooth and tanned, and while he was thin and slightly small in stature, in no way did his frame hide his muscles. He glanced at his wings, and was once again in awe of how perfect they looked. He had the urge to touch him, but that would be a big no-no. He wore only a pair of stonewash, artistically ripped jeans and no shirt. Fuckin' figured, didn't it. He belatedly realized his hands were shaking, and he looked at Warren.

"D'you mind if I smoke? I'll go over by the window, or I can go outside, if ya prefer."

Warren shook his head. He smoked? Who knew that'd be a turn-on? "No, I don't mind at all. I don't, but you can go by the window," he said quietly. Nate stared at him, icy, bottle-cap green eyes resting on his face.

"Thanks," he finally said. He ambled over to the window, pulled out his pack of Menthol Lights, and slid one between his mouth and lit it with his green Bic.

He took an appreciative drag, then stared at Warren again. Warren began to fidget, and just when he was about to summon up the courage to ask Nate what the hell he was staring at, Nate said, "You're a shy guy, huh?"

"I-what?"

"I said," he repeated, leaning forward, his eyes twinkling, "you're a shy guy. So, I'm guessing you don't really like talkin', huh? Well, I like to talk. I ain't shy in no way. So I hope ya don't mind, but I can talk the ear off an elephant. And I don't get my feeling's hurt easily, so don't think you'll 'fend me when ya tell me to shut up 'cause I'm talkin' too much and you just want some quiet, 'kay? 'Cause ya won't, and I don't wanna bother ya, what with me bein' the 'newbie' and all." He didn't use aire quotes when he said "newbie" but you could hear them in his voice.

"N-no," Warren said immediately. "I don't mind you talking at all- quite the opposite, actually. It'll keep me company," he said with a smile. Nate grinned again and took another long pull on his cigarette, releasing his smoke in the direction of the window. "Great, 'cause at my old school, nobody wanted to hear me talk. Bein' a mutant n' all. One jock who was like a foot taller n' me and at least a hundred pounds heavier tapped me on the shoulder, and when I turned around, _WHAM! _Sucker-punched me, all 'cause I was talkin'. So, I froze time, got off the floor, tied his shoelaces together, un-froze time, and pushed him into the principal... _After _I kicked him in the dick." He grinned, and Warren burst out laughing, his wings fluttering. He collapsed on the bed and asked, "And then what happened?"

"Well, I kicked the huge bastard- you don't mind if I cuss, d'you?" When Warren shook his head, he continued. "Well, anyway, after I kicked the bastard in the dick and shoved him, his cronies gathered 'round me like a friggin' gang, and all I could think was, 'Oh shit oh shit oh shit, I'mma get it now,' when the principal stormed over and grabbed me by the collar. Needless to say, both me n' Wally Thorton got 'tention, and I made fun of him _all _through it, 'cause the teacher was deaf from an accident. I called him a pansy, asked how he could let a mutant boy like me shove him, told him I did the world a favor by makin' him infertile, asked how it felt to get kicked in the cock by a mutant fa-, freak," he finished quickly. He looked to see if Warren had noticed his almost-slip, but he appeared none the wiser. Nate breathed a sigh of relief.

"Anyway," he continued, "he got real PO'd, and the lunged across the desk and screamed, 'I'll teach you to fuckin' talk to a human like that, you stupid monster!' And then, of course, the teacher screamed at him and he got three more detentions, so it was totally worth it."

Warren smiled, his light brown eyes shining. "Wow," he said quietly. "I'm sorry to say this, but I wouldn't have done that. I'm too..." He trailed off, unsure what to say.

"You're too shy's, what it is," Nate drawled languorously. "But that's okay, 'cause I'm gonna get your pretty self outta that shell," he drawled, flashing white teeth in the fading light. Warren blushed and said nothing, wondering if he really meant that.

In hindsight, Nate realized that maybe he shouldn't have said that, but decided it was too late to back out now. He took one more pull on his inch-long ciggarette and then tossed it out the window, blowing out smoke from his nostrils.

_Time for a subject change._

"So Warren," he began, smiling when the blonde-haired boy looked up at him. "Wanna show me 'round?"

"N-now?"

"Of course now, ya crazy! What other time, midnight?" He grinned and hopped up, stretching. "Put a shirt on, unless, of course, it's easier for ya not to, and c'mon," he exclaimed, grinning excitedly.

Warren stared at him for a moment, then softly smiled. He gracefully pushed himself off the bed and strode for the door, looking over his shoulder and tucking his wings behind his back. Nate grinned again and glanced at his luggage. Warren followed his gaze and said, "If you'd like, we can stay and I'll help you with your suitcase."

Nate scratched his head, then shook it. "Nah, I'll just do it tomorrow. Today's Friday, after all, and we ain't got no school tomorrow." He suddenly looked slightly worried, and bit his bottom lip and chewed. "We _ain't _got school tomorrow, right? I dunno, this is the first mutant school I've ever been to."

"No, Saturday is like every other Saturday, along with Sunday," Warren reassured. Nate looked relieved.

"Alright! So, I'll just do it tomorrow then. Sad to say, but my powers make me procrastinate."

Warren grinned. "That's just an excuse."

"Damn right! Now, let's go meet some people, yeah?"

**A/N: So, tell me what ya'll thought! Lol, the only reason I'm even making this story is 'cause my BFF is gay and he's in love with Angel from the X-Men movies. I'm basing Nate Quilkens offa him- the name (just the first), the looks, the place of birth, the way he speaks, everything. So, Natie, this is for you babydoll! :D Lol. Read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Warren quietly padded his way to the rec room, listening to Nate loudly walk behind him. He glanced behind his shoulder, wondering if someone that loud would be graceless as well. No such luck. He may have been stomping loudly, but he seemed to glide over the floor, and his chest and shoulders didn't move this way and that either. Warren sighed and turned his head around. Just in time, too, as he almost ran into Ro- Marie.

"Oh, hey, Warren," she exclaimed cheekily, tucking a white strand of hair behind her ears. Even now, after taking the cure, she still maintained her white streaks. Warren thought the look suited her.

"So, what are you up to," she asked.

"Oh, I'm showing my new roommate around. Marie, this is Nate." He turned to the side, so he wasn't blocking her view. She beamed at Nate and reached out with one un-gloved hand. Nate grasped her hand and shook, flashing white against tanned skin.

"Why, hello there! Oh my gosh, you are just as cute as a button! I'm Marie, its nice to meet ya," she said happily, pumping his hand up and down before finally letting go.

"Well, hello there, Marie. 'S good to know that Ah'm not the only Southerner here," he drawled, his Texan accent coming out even more.

"Oh, you're from Texas! I'm from Mississippi, myself. I've never been to Texas, but I've heard its real nice," she said.

"Sure is, Miz Marie," he drawled lazily. That accent alone sent shivers down Warren's spine, and caused his wings to flutter. A small white feather drifted to the floor, and without thinking, Nate reached down to pick it up. He tucked it behind Warren's ear, flashed him a grin, then turned to Marie again, once again berating himself for doing that.

"Well, Miz Marie, Ah neva' been to Mississippi either, but my daddy, he has. He a lawyer, y'know, and he had a case down there. He said it reminded him a lot of Texas, so he wasn't all that homesick like usual," he grinned.

Marie laughed, then said, "So, Nate, have you met anyone else?"

"No, ma'am, just yourself, Warren, Professor Xavier, and Professor Scott."

"Oh! Well, you've got to meet Bobby, he's my boyfriend. He's real nice too, and I think you'd like Kitty too. They're in the kitchen, along with Storm, Hank, John, Jean, and, of course, Logan and Peter. Ya wanna meet all the X-Men at one time," she asked with a sly grin.

"Sho' do. Ain't shy in no way," he shot back. Marie grinned, then glanced at Warren.

"Warren, I hope you'll come with us too?"

"Well, I, um... Yes. Thanks."

"Great! So, Nate, when'd you get here?"

"'Bout an hour ago, I'd say."

"Have you eaten anything yet?"

"Nope."

"Oh, well you're in luck then. Storm, she made taco's and rice, _real _Mexican food, not Tex-Mex." She shot him a glance, and blushed. "Uh, sorry. No offense or anythin'."

Nate laughed. "No problem, I take no offense. Uh, Storm? What kinda name is Storm?"

"The name for a woman who can control the weather," she drawled back. A eyebrow raised, almost of its own volition, and he shrugged. They made their way to the kitchen, Nate and Marie talking happily. Warren walked a few paces behind, keeping his head angled toward the floor and ignoring the world around him. It was a habit he had picked up so he wouldn't have to see the feared stares from the people who his dad had carted him off to to see about a cure. He wondered why Nate had put the feather behind his ear, and reached up and ran his fingers over it. He shook his head then, almost dislodging the feather.

_You're overeacting! He's just being friendly, he's a friendly person! See, look, he's flirting with Marie. Dear God, he's flirting with Marie._

Warren felt his eyes narrow a bit at that thought, and then harshly pulled the feather from behind his ear and let it flutter to the floor as they turned a corner and began to descind down the stairs. He sighed to himself. _You've just met the guy, and you're already acting like a jealous lover. Stop it._

He could tell himself to stop acting like a child all he wanted to, but that didn't mean he'd stop. He dutifully followed the Southern duo to the kitchen, where Marie introduced Nate to the rest of the X-Men. Warren, as was usual, only said a faint "hello" before quieting down, smiling every so often at someone. He was used to being ignored- his father had always done it, and there were times when a clinic felt more homely than an actual home. He glanced at Nate, and saw with a smile that he seemed to fit in really well here. Logan had taken a liking to him, which was rare, Jean and Ororo liked him, along with Bobby and John. Hank and Peter had already left, he realized, though he faintly remembered them meeting Nate as well. He ate real Mexican food that was delicious, and listened in on their conversation so he could be a part of it and not be expected to participate. He found out that Nate liked Three Days Grace, liked to read and write, loved to draw, and preferred rock over any other music type. He liked the colors blue and white (Warren smiled softly at that admission, thinking of his wings), and that he liked to sing in the shower despite the fact that he was horrible. He had a little sister named Annaleigh, who he said was annoying but it was obvious he loved her. Warren noticed he was rubbing the bruise on his lower jaw and wincing every once in awhile, and Warren wondered how much it hurt. He idly rolled his shoulders back, and flinched as pain reverberated through his shoulders and upper back. A loud _crack _echoed through the room, and everyone turned to look at him.

He hated being on the spotlight, dammit.

"Sorry," he murmured. "My shoulder popped." His wings began to ache, but he ignored the sensation. It would go away in a while- it always had before. But as 'visiting time' wore on and on, Warren realized that the pain was steadily growing worse. He cleared his throat to gain the attention of his teammates, then said, "I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

He stood up, and immediately collapsed, the pain racing from shoulders to wings to back to legs to feet. Before he knew what was happening, a warm, slightly-calloused hand grasped him but the upper shoulders and he was pulled against a warm, muscular chest. He could feel his legs trembling, and sweat broke out on his forehead. His wings drooped low, almost as if he didn't have the strength to keep them up. Wich he didn't. He took in a shaky breath, and he heard Nate say, "I'm gonna 'port him to our room. I'll see you folks tomorrow." He leaned close to Warren, his lips only a few inches from his own. He found himself trying not to focus on them, and was glad for the pain racking his body. Now he wouldn't have to watch out for his body's reaction either.

"Warren," he drawled. "Warren, ya listenin' to me?"

"Um, uh... I think so," he slurred.

Nate's eyebrows drew together, and he hissed fervently, "Close your eyes, darlin'. Otherwise this might make ya sick, and I think you're already sick 'nough. So close 'em," he comanded. Warren nodded stupidly and did as he was told. When Nate saw his eyes flutter shut, he quickly teleported them to their room. As soon as he was done, Warren let out a little cry of pain, and Nate froze.

"Warren," he hissed, voice worried. "Warren? Warren! Answer me! Open your damned eyes and fuckin' answer me!"

Warren felt as if his eyes had been glued shut, and teleporting had made his bones jar together. Pain was shooting through his frame now, a low, sharp ache that made him want to curl into a ball and cry. He barely heard Nate's words, and when he did he opened his mouth intending to say something. All that came out was a low moan and he dropped his head onto Nate's chest, not caring anymore. His neck was screaming at him anyway, for attempting to keep his head held high. He pressed his forehead into Nate harder, trembling. He realized Nate smelled good, like soap. He smelled fresh and clean, and Nate took a deep breath, inhaling it. He realized what he was doing, and jerked his head away, red fuding his cheeks as he realized this situation.

Here he was, in a dark room, shirtless, and pressed against Nate's body, trembling and sweating, and he had just _smelled _him.

Way to be creepy, Warren.

He grimaced as pain lit a small white light behind his eyes, and he slurred, "Sorry, 'M goin' t' bed now. G'night." He took a step away from him, and his knee immediately locked under him and buckled, and he was falling.. He attempted to spread his wings out to slow his fall, but they screamed at him in protest and flopped back to his sides. He felt strong arms wrap around his waist, and he was lifted back up. Nate looked him in the eye and stated, "I'll put you to bed. 'S all okay, ya hear?" Nate then proceeded to carefully drag him over to the bed and he carefully pulled the covers back, then covered him. He placed a hand on his forehead, wondering what the hell was wrong with him and congratulating himself on ignoring the fact that Warren felt amazing against him and smelled very good and had smelled Nate himself. He didn't allow to think anything else on the matter; he didn't want to do something idiotic.

Like kiss the shit out of him.

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind quickly and focused on his task.

"You gonna be okay," he whispered. It seemed... sacriligious, almost, to speak louder than that in the darkened room. Warren gave him a small nod, then his mouth tightened in pain, though he gave no sign of it. Nate didn't believe him, but what could he do? He walked over to his own bed, quickly made it, and then undressed into boxers and slipped in. He was about to fall asleep when a loud cry jolted him awake. He could hear Warren's harsh breathing from over here, and he was at the side of his bed instantly.

"What is it? What's the matter?" He already knew what was wrong, though. He had moved; he switched from his back to his stomach, his face in the direction of Nate. Nate could see tremors racing through his back, and his wings were fluttering. His back was defined with muscle, and a fine sheen of sweat covered them. Nate shook his head, directing himself away from those tempting thoughts.

"Warren?" He didn't answer, and Nate noticed that his jaw was clenched. He sighed and then made a rash decision. He walked around the side of the bed, where there was more room, pulled the covers back and quietly and slowly slipped in, so as not to startle him. He really hoped he could control his... _bodily functions._

He covered himself, then carefully wrapped a arm around Warren and began to slowly massage his back with one hand.

"Its okay," he whispered in his ear. "I think ya did something to your wings. When ya popped 'em, it may have also popped some muscle outta place. No, I dunno, but maybe because of your wings and the way they are and move and such, and the way your back is probably made to 'comodate your wings, it probably hurts a lot worse then for someone without wings. Prob'bly a lot longer too. Since I'm wantin' and trainin' to be a doctor, I kinda know a lil' bit, so I'll help to the best of my abilities, 'kay? Tell me if it hurts too much, or if it starts to get better."

Warren breathed evenly in and out, ignored the body pressed against him, and listened to his words. His hand felt really good... Warren winced at the double entendre, and Nate, mistaking it for pain, drew back immediately.

"No," Warren murmured. "Keep... going. It feels good." A pause, then he felt his hand on his back, massaging his shoulders and the area where his wings met. It felt immensly good, and Warren began to feel the pain melt away. He spoke.

"This happens a lot, actually. I'll pop my wings, and it pops the muscle in them the wrong way. Normally I'll lay down as soon as it happens, and it'll go away with minimal pain. But I guess if I continue to sit up and ignore it, it'll hurt worse and worse."

"Why the hell didn't you go lay down when it first happened then? Or after, when it was gettin' worse?"

"Didn't want to cut the welcoming party short," he murmured. Nate rolled his green eyes. "Boy, you should-a done said somethin'! Ain't nobody down there be upset if you hurt yourself and wanna go to bed! Good Lord, boy."

"Well, I know that now."

"Damn skippy you know that now! Now since you can prop'ly speak, where's it hurt the most?" Warren considered for a moment, then answered. "My wings, the thicker part at the bottom. Just before it meets my back. It's the worse there, but my back and neck is good now. Just my wings."

"Won'erful. I'll get your wings then."

"No, no. It's okay, honestly. I'll deal. You need sleep. It's late, you just got off a long flight, you're probably tired. Go to bed- I'll be okay."

Nate considered this for a moment. "Nope," he stated, before rubbing his wings with both hands. Warren sighed, and soon got lost in the sensation of Nate's hands. Soon he drifed off, enjoying the massage and the warm, muscular body pressed against him. He had enough awareness to mutter, "G'night, Nathan," before he passed out, tired from the pain, the new roommate, and the pleasure from the massage. Nate stared at the form of Warren Worthington for a moment, before grinning and slowly slipping from the bed. He sauntered to the window, and was glad to see it was open. He lit a ciggarette and took an appreciative drag, then his eyes lighted on Warren again. He sure was somethin'- always seemin' to care 'bout others and not for himself. Nate had noticed how he walked behind him and Marie, head down, in his private little world. There was shy, and then there was used-to-being-ignored. He was used-to-being-_ignored _and I-must-always-be-polite-or-else. Nate wondered why that was. He wondered a lot about his new roommate. Wondered if he had a temper, wondered if he even knew how to raise his voice beyond a conversational tone. Wondered if he had any family. Wondered an awful lot about Warren Worthington. Wondered if he sould even be wondering about Warren Worthington. He doubted it, but that just made him do it all the more. He finished and ambled over to the bed, falling in. He really was tired. He yawned and closed his eyes.

Warren sighed as sun filtered into his room at an ungodly hour. Why the hell was that window open? And why did everything hurt? Last night's events suddenly came rushing into his mind, and he winced as he remembered how he fell asleep on Nate and how he had smelled him and... Jesus. What a freak he was. He sighed and jumped as a loud curse broke the silence.

"Motherfucker!"

Warren's head smapped to the door, where Nate entered, grimacing and hopping on one foot. "O-oh," he stuttered upon realizing he was awake. "You're awake." _Way to go for the obvious, Quilkens. _

"Yes, I'm awake. I wanted to thank you and apologize to you, for last night. What you did w-"

"Nope. Don't even go there. Consider it a favor. I gave you a favor, now you owe me one, all that bullshit. Besides, I like you. Wouldn't massage your back if I didn't like you." He winked at him, then turned and sauntered back through the door, calling behind him, "Breakfast's ready!"

Warren stared at the door for a good five minutes. Nate liked him? And now he owed him a favor? Warren ignored the little voice that said, _Only as a friend, you nimrod. Don't read into things that aren't there. _He pushed it to the side, focusing instead on that wink and the accompanying words. He liked him, and now owed him a favor. Then he winked at him. Winked! At Warren! Those words and that one little gesture floated through his mind as he slowly readied himself for breakfast with the X-Men. A few simple words, and a seemingly innocent, innocuous gesture, had his mind wheeling with all the possibilities. What'd he mean? As friends? Or as something more? Warren had absolutely no clue, but he did know that he was going to find out, and find out soon, whether it be by using Marie's interoggation skills or his own cunning.

He _liked _him and he owed him a _favor. _Then he _winked _at him.

Well, how about that?

**A/N: Thank you to the lovely Echo Dancer for reviewing my story. Your review was awesome, thanks so much! :) R&R, let me know how I'm doing and if I'm getting characters spot-on. As I may or may not have stated before, I've only had the chance to watch the movies and read maybe one or two comics, neither of which featured Angel. So all this is based off my version of Angel and movieverse Angel. A mix, if you will. Thanks again!**

**-Alli-**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Language, homophobic attitudes (lots of it), and yes... A kissing scene between Warren and Natie! :) And they go on a date! Yay! Full A/N at the bottom.**

Warren made his way too the kitchen, every once in awhile smiling at another student. No one had said anything about last night, which brought in the question's: Who knew? Why didn't he just teleport him to the infirmary? Why hadn't more people been concerned about him? Warren winced as he realized just how conceited that last thought was. He had absolutely no way of knowing how they reacted after Nate teleported him off. It had happened so quickly, Warren had no idea what to think. Before he knew it, he was at the kitchen. Marie and Bobby were sitting at the table, arms around one another, John was on the opposite side sitting in silence, flicking his Bic, Logan was leaning against the counter talking to Storm. Hank, Jean, and Scott were nowhere to be found. And Nate was at the fridge, peering in and singing _Cherry Bomb _under his breath.

"Hello, daddy, hello, mom!

I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!

"Hello, world, I'm your wild girl!

I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!"

The rest of the song was lost to Warren. Logan noticed him first, and he asked gruffly, "Hey, bub. You okay?" Marie's head whipped to the back, and her brown eyes widened.

"Warren!" She got up and darted over to him, eyes concerned. "Are you alright? I mean, ya fainted last night, and before any of us knew it, Nate had ya and ya were gone! What happened? Did ya go to the infirmary?"

"Yes, Marie, I'm fine. I just popped a muscle out of place. It's fine now, I can hardly feel it. It's more of a dull ache now, nothing some flying won't cure. No, I didn't go to the infirmary. And no, I don't need to go, either."

"The infirmary's my fault," Nate spoke up. "I didn't know where it was, and I haven't seen a picture of it or anything, and I can only 'port somewhere once I've seen a picture or been there or know an address. Otherwise I'll end up in a completely different place." Marie nodded.

"We were so worried! You faint, and then just disappear. None of us had any time to really react... Sorry," she apologized finally. Warren chuckled, murmuring, "You have nothing to be sorry for." He wondered over to the island and grabbed a plate. The kitchen smelled wonderful. There was a wide array of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, cereal, oatmeal, and bagels on the island. Warren grabbed scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast, bringing it to the table. He sat by John, glancing at him warily. He never really got along with the pyromaniac. They just... Rubbed each other the wrong way. And apparently, this morning was very different

It was worse.

As soon as he sat down- a good _foot _away from him- John's head snapped around and he glared at Warren.

"You have to sit here, fucking faggot? I mean, can't you take your winged, ugly-ass over somewhere else? For God's sake, no one here really even likes you. Only ones who _do _like you are the ones who let you put your dirty mouth on their cock. Now fuckin' _move!_"

Warren wasn't, by nature, a violent, temperamental person. Hell, he could count on one hand the times he had lost his temper. But Warren was tired, and he had lied earlier; his wings fucking _hurt._ And he was hungry. So all of these factors combined made Warren very, very testy. And before anyone could jump to his defense, like Marie or Bobby (thank God for Nate and Logan, he honestly didn't think that those two would defend him, which would make him feel inferior), he turned to John and let loose.

"What the _fuck _is your problem? I haven't done _shit _to you; I just fucking _sat _here. I said absolutely nothing to you. So you better shut the fuck up and go back to flicking your stupid Bic lighter before I take you by your ugly, bleach-blonde, surfer-boy hair and fly your ass up two-hundred feet, and _drop _you. We'll see if the supposedly tough Pyro can fucking survive that kind of fall, you arrogant, foul-mouthed little cocksucking shit." And that reminded Warren. "And you think I'm gay, you fucking wannabe? Whatever. Think that, doesn't mean shit to me. But you know what I think? I think you're jealous as fuck, knowing that while I apparently am a 'fucking faggot' I still get some. Unlike you. Y'know, maybe that's your problem. Maybe you're just sexually-frustrated, or you're naturally a dickhead. And, well, normally I'd offer myself, but I have actual taste. And, of course, can't forget the fact that I don't want your fucking Gonorrhea." And with that, Warren smiled at the shell-shocked John, got up, and strode out of the kitchen, not looking back. He couldn't give John the satisfaction of knowing just how shaken up he was. He was hurt from what he had said, about him being a faggot and how no one really liked him. It hit a little too close to home, there. Warren shook his head. What was wrong with him? Just because he got offended didn't mean he had to loose his temper. He practically _never _lost his temper! He stopped in the middle of the hall, ignoring the looks and took a deep breath. He needed to be alone. Now.

And he knew just where to go.

_**XXX XXX XXX**_

Warren stared at the partially-blocked sky, contemplating. He sat in his favorite tree, one that overlooked the garden. He was high up, and no one should've been able to find him, much less get up here. Which was why he was surprised when Nate suddenly popped beside him. Warren started, his wings fluttering. Nate glanced at him and took out a cigarette, lighting it.

"Sorry if I scared you," he apologized, staring into the garden.

"H-how'd you find me," he asked softly. "No one ever finds me when I'm here." Nate shrugged and flicked ash into the air. "Just noticed ya out here. If ya want me to go, I will. Didn't mean to encroach on your space, man. Just wanted to see if you're okay and stuff."

"No, no! It's fine, really. I was just shocked that someone actually... Well, noticed, to tell you the truth. No, I don't want you to leave. I don't mind _your _company," he said somewhat bitterly. Nate glanced at him, sharply. "Right. So, after you left, Marie chewed John out, along with Storm and Logan. He stormed off to go do whatever it is he does. And I came to find you. So, what was that? You two always act like that?"

"Me and John just never got along, is all. I don't know why- we just rub each other the wrong way. And I was tired, my wings hurt even though I said they didn't, I was hungry, and I was short-tempered. And I made things worse," he sighed.

"Nah. It's cool that you stood up for yourself. So, I um... I gotta question..." Warren turned and looked at him. He was puffing furiously on his cigarette, hands fisted in his lap. His shaggy hair fell into his face, and he wore jeans and a green wife-beater. Warren was suddenly hyper-aware of his muscles, and he looked away.

"W-what's you question," he asked, breathless, though he would forever deny it.

"Are you gay?" Nate blurted it out, then clapped a hand over his mouth, shocked by his brashness. "I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to just... Say it quite like that," he muttered.

Warren took a deep breath. "Yes. Yes, I'm gay." He stared at Nate, wondering what he'd do. What he did next surprised him. He took another pull on his smoke, dropped it, and looked at him. Then he grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into the most amazing kiss Warren had ever received. His lips were soft and warm, and he tasted of the cigarette he had just discarded. He felt his world spin a bit, and then it narrowed down to Nate's hands as they moved from his neck to one hand cupping his face and the other moving to his waist. He felt Nate's tongue push against his lips, and Warren gladly opened his mouth. They continued this for only a moment more before Nate pulled away, green eyes glazed and his lips slightly parted and bruised-looking. Warren felt blood rushing south at that image Nate possibly unknowingly created. They both were breathing heavily, and Nate's eyes suddenly narrowed.

"Fuck it," he declared before pulling Warren back to him. Warren happily went with him, and this time was a lot more active. As soon as their lips met, he pushed both hands in Nate's hair and pressed close to him. The two boy's mouths opened voluntarily, and Warren began mapping his mouth, even as Nate did the same. Nate tasted _so good, _Warren's foggy mind managed. He was a combination of peppermint, cinnamon, and smoke, and it drove Warren wild.

_**XXX XXX XXX**_

Nate couldn't believe it. He was kissing Warren for the second time now, and he was responding a lot more enthusiastically this time then he had the first time. Nate felt whatever blood still in his upper body surge downward, and he groaned in Warren's mouth. He tasted like mint, and before he knew what he was doing he 'ported them to their bedroom. He ended up with Warren atop him, his wings stretched over them. Warren ran his hands along his chest and under his shirt, tweaking his nipples. Nate made a gasping noise and arched up, tossing his head back and biting his lower lip. Warren leaned down and captured it instead, and began to lightly chew. Nate was surprised. Warren was usually so shy in public, but now... Nate rather liked the change. He groaned then as he felt Warren grind his erection against his own. He glared at Warren, hissing, "Do it again!"

Warren took a deep, shuddering breath, and just as he was about to push down a loud, annoying, grating laugh echoed through their door, and both heads snapped in the same direction. They stared at the door for a moment, then glanced at each other. Unfortunately, the mood was broken, and with an irritated huff Warren rolled off of Nate. Nate ran a hand through his hair and looked at Warren.

"Wow. That was..."

"Yeah, it was," Warren agreed.

"So, I'm really hopin' you're likin' me now," Nate drawled. Warren just nodded, his body still buzzing.

"Well, that's good, 'cause I don't fuck around with people." He grinned and leaned over, kissing Warren on the cheek. "Get yourself together, cowboy! I wanna go out!"

And with a wink, he got off of Warren's bed (they were on his bed? Warren thought) and sauntered to his own bed, pulling his shirt off and getting dressed. Warren stared at his back for a moment before remembering himself and fixing himself up. Wait a minute.

"We're going out," he asked, breathless. Nate nodded. "You gotta show me all the good places to eat. Don't worry; I'll pay." Warren didn't bother with arguing about that- he knew he would convince him to let Warren pay.

"Um, okay. Just let me get dressed." Warren made sure his hair wasn't this way and that, made sure his clothes weren't rumpled, and then walked to the closet, intending on getting his straps to hide his wings. He dragged it out from layers of clothes and shoes that had fallen over it, and shrugged his shirt off. After folding his wings back, he carefully put it on and clipped it. His wings immediately began protesting, but he was used to that. He carefully slid a plain blue shirt on and turned around. Nate was leaning against the wall, staring at him. He had changed his jeans as well; they were now black, with a huge, gaping hole in both knees and he wore a black shirt. The combination made him look incredibly sexy, but Warren wasn't about to tell him that.

"Why are you wearin' that?" Warren looked at him, surprised.

"Because I can't very well go out in public with wings on my back," he reasoned. "Not with all of the animosity towards mutants. It's easier on me and everybody else if I just go out like this."

"Even if it's painful?"

"Yes, even if it's more painful. How'd you know it was painful? No one ever noticed."

"You winced."

Warren's brows drew together. Had he? He didn't remember, but that wasn't important right now. What was important was the fact that apparently, he was going on a date. With Nate. He had no idea how this was going to turn out, and he had no idea what was going to happen with John. But that was for another time, and another day. Right now, he was gonna go out with Nate and have fun.

He would make sure of it.

**A/N: Their date scene is in the next chapter. Don't think that I don't like John; I love him! Just can't imagine him being tolerant of gay people. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorited and stuff! Love you guys! Sorry for taking such a long time on updating, life's hectic. Reviews are love!**

**~Alliana~**


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh. My. God. I am so sorry, you guys, really I am. You have no idea how apologetic I am. There's not even an excuse. I'm just an ass. Anywho, nearly a year later, is the fourth part of BLaCW. I doubt I have any readers left, but if I do, then thanks for stickng around with my royal assness. **

**Special thanks to:**

_**STARS-NEMESIS, Androgynous-Heron, XxPookerxX, Chishio chuudoko, Grim1989, roomofangels, UntamedKittten, and the ever-fabulous Echo Dancer.**_

**Enjoy!**

Warren couoldn't believe how much fun he and Nate were having, and they hadn't even gotten to the Mexican restaurant Warren had mentioned earlier. After the two had asked (begged, more like it) Scott to use one of the cars, they had set off for _Amigos de por Vida_, one of the few Mexican places in the area. Warren was particularly excited; not because Scott let them actually use a car, or they were going out to eat, away from everybody. He was happy because he was with Nate. Nate who kissed him, and he had kissed back. Nate, who was taking him out on a date. Wasn't he? He thought back to what was said: _"I wanna go out." _Wasn't that asking someone to go on a date? _No,_ a snide voice said in the back of his head. _It means he wants to go out. A common phrase completely platonic friends often use with one another. _But then he thought back to the kisses, and Nate's proclomation of him not fucking "around with people."

That was a good enough declaration of dating for Warren.

Nate whooped in the seat beside him, quickly shifting the gear and speeding down the deserted road faster. "Aw, man, there ain't nothin' quite like speedin' down a empty road, huh Warren? 'Course, Ah'm bettin' you get even more of a thrill, what with yo' flyin' an' all, but me? Nah. There ain't no thrill in teleportin', it's over so quick. 'Course, the real fun starts when Ah arrive to wherever it is Ah'm goin', but it still don't beat this feelin' of flyin'. Is this the closest you can get to flyin' while still bein' completely on land, do ya think?"

Warren laughed. "I've never really thought about it, but I think this really _is _the closest someone could get to flying on land. But either way, I think I'd pick teleportation over flying any day. It's just so much easier and quicker, and not nearly as noticeable. Plus, it doesn't seem to be painful at all."

Nate grinned, shaking his shaggy black hair away from his face. He rolled two braod shoulders back and cracked his neck to the side, handling the car with an ease and deftness that belied his strength and size. "Nah," he drawled, his accent making Warren's wings flutter against his restricting straps. "Ah'd rather ya keep them wings a yours. They're way too pretty to just be givin' 'em up all quick. Ah'd rather have ya wings, though Ah must admit that the time-freezing comes in real handy at times." Warren laughed again, his eyes crinkling around the edges and lighting up. The wind from the open windows whipped by them, pushing Nate's hair away from his face. "I'd imagine freezing time would come in handy," Warren mused. "Turn left at the second road." After Nate made the turn, quick and sharp and easily done, Warren asked, "What's the time freezing like? I know Professor Xavier, and Jean, to an extent, can freeze a person's awareness and not time. Is that what you do, or do you actually freeze time? The place is the next driveway to the right."

Nate offered him a grin and turned into the parking lot. They got a place near the front, right next to a burgundy Dodge Stratus. Nate turned the car off, the sound of the purring engine quickly dying off, and turned to face Warren, still in his seat. He hadn't bothered with his seatbelt, not with his mutatation. It was uneeded and cumbersome. Nate cocked his head, his right temple resting against the leather seat. His green eyes met Warren's blue-gray ones, and he pursed his lips together for a moment before answering.

"Ya know, Ah don't really know. Ah never really took a moment to consider it, but if Ah had to make a guess Ah'd go with freezin' actual time. Whenever Ah'd look at a clock or somethin', it'd always have the same time as when Ah first froze it. It'd only start up 'gain after Ah unfreezed time. If you only freeze the mind an' all, wouldn't time still be a creepin' on, same's it always does?"

"Mm, most likely," Warren mused. He and Nate stared at each other for a moment, brows furrowed and expressions contemplative. "Ah, well, whatever. Let's eat, Ah'm starvin'" Nate declared suddenly. Warren chuckled and unbuckled before stepping out of the car. He saw Nate already out, and having heard no other door slamming, assumed he teleported out. "You should be more careful," Warren muttered. "The people around here aren't exactly mutant-friendly."

"The majority of people ain't mutant-friendly, and that's includin' mutants. Don't you worry, Warren, Ah'll be fine. Ah always make sure Ah don't get caught," he grinned. Warren offered him a tentative smile in return, and as Nate turned to walk into the restaurant Warren was overcome with sudden indecision. What was he doing here, with this boy? Granted, he was cute, and nice, and most likely, judging from previous conversations, very smart. But the fact of the matter was, he was a boy. Worthington's didn't date member's of the same gender. He already had his mutation against him, despite him saving his father from certain death, and now here he was, kissing and eating lunch with a boy who would meet none of his family's or future employee's expectations.

"Warren! You comin' or what," he heard Nate call. He glanced up (when had he glanced down?) and looked at Nate. He was stadning by the door, holding it open with one shoulder, his right hand making the 'come-hither' gesture. Warren felt a surge of self-disgust well inside him, and he nodded, starting for the door. Who was he, his father? No. No, he liked Nate becaue he was cute and nice and most likely smart. And he didn't give a damn if his father would refuse to see that, because if Warren had his way then they'd never meet.

Nate grinned when he finally reached the door, Nate ushering him inside quickly. "What a slow-poke," Nate said teasingly, nudging him in the side. Warren smiled and said nothing, ashamed by his momentary lapse into his father's judgements. A tall, beautiful woman approached them, wearing a white shirt with black pants.

"_Hola, senors. _Anyplace you'd like to sit today?" Her accent was soft and lilting, easy to understand. Warren was grateful. He had a hard time understanding the majority of foreign accents. Hell, there were times when Nate or Marie said something that he had to decipher in his head before being positive he knew what they were asking. Nate shrugged, biting his lip and rubbing his middle and index fingers together softly. He didn't dare smoke in the car, an he didn't smoke all that much at school either. Just before they'd left, he heard a mental whisper of _No smoking, Nathan_ before the mental presence faded away. He had grimaced and promised to either lay off or teleport into the woods and have a smokathon. That thought sounded utterly tempting, but he coughed and drawled, "No, ma'am, wherever's fine by me."

"Smoking section, please," Warren piped up. Nate whipped his head around, black hair sweeping into his eyes before gravity made it fall to the side of his face, and he grinned at Warren. He turned back to the hostess. "_Fumar, por favor, Senorita. Gracias." _She gave him a cheeky smile and whispered huskily, "_De nada, guapo._" He smiled right back as she led the two to the back, a darker lit place with smoke hanging heavy in the air. It smelled of spicy things here, and Warren grinned. He loved the smell of Mexican food.

They settled down at a small, two-seater table and Nate immediately lit a cigarette, taking a long drag on it before tilting his head into the aisle and exhaling. "Thanks fo' that, Ah really needed this."

"It's no problem, I noticed you rubbing your fingers together so I just assumed..."

"Well, ya assumed correctly, darlin'. Hm... Ah wonder how my Spanglish went? Ah ain't spoke Spanish in a long while, 'n Ah'm hopin' Ah didn't mess it up too badly."

Warren chuckled. "No, you did fine. I think." They both burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the two other families dining in the room. A short, plump woman walked over to their table, brandishing a pen and pad. Once she reached them, she smiled and said in (unfortunately) heavily accented Spanglish, "_iHola! Me llamo Selina, y yo_ will be your server. _Que puedo _get for you two to drink?" Warren's brow furrowed, trying desperately to understand the horrible mix of Spanish and English, all accented. Nate, however, got it immediately and replied with "Coke, please. You?"

"Ergh, ah, sure. Coke."

She smiled and said something (which Warren didn't even try to catch; he just smiled and nodded) and she turned and left, going through a set of swinging doors at the back. "I had no clue what she was trying to say," Warren said abruptly, with a small, shy smile. Nate tilted his head back and laughed. "'S no prob, Warren. Growin' up in Texas, ya kinda get used to what we locals called "Tex-Mex." It's a sort-a tribute to our ever-so delicious Tex-Mex food," he winked. Warren laughed. The doors swung open again, and here came Selina, her hands carrying two Cokes and straws. After setting them down, Warren believed she asked what they wanted. Nate just glanced at the menu and rambled something off, flashing her a bright smile and handing her the menu. Warren cleared his throat.

"I'll take the same."

After handing her menu, Nate took a sip of his soda and leaned across the table. "So. Tell me about this school. Ah mean, sure Ah got the basics an' stuff. Like, Ah know that Ah'm there to learn how to control my... _Stuff_ better, 'course," he murmured, his voice lowering slightly. "But what's the schedule gonna be like? How many classes am Ah gonna get? What's taught? Who teaches? How are they gonna help me out? When's breakfast, lunch and dinner? When's class actually start? Is that dickhead John a student?"

Warren took a deep breath. "Let me answer your classes in order. There are six classes. Fifty-five minutes long, each class. Everything's taught; math, science, history, English, as well as Mutant Theory and Philosophy and Mutant History. Those will be your six. A lot of students like to take an extra one though, professor Logan's course. Its car repair and engine stuff. Not my forte, so I'll leave that to another student for explanation. A lot of teachers teach the same thing, so there's no telling whom you'll get. But they're all nice. And they help those like us by training. Its set in the mornings, afternoons, or evenings. Everyone has a different schedule. When you get yours, you'll see when you have it. You go to your first later if it's in the morning, take a break from school in the afternoon, or go after class and before dinner for evenings. That's all explained on your schedule, too. I have it in the evenings. All the training happens before we eat, except breakfast. It's normally too early to actually eat then, so most people grab some fruit or something. Breakfast is at eight, lunch at one, and dinner at eight. I go to the Danger Room- that's what we call it- at five-thirty. We train for an hour and a half, then go get showered up and go eat. Light's out at ten-thirty, though you don't have an actual bedtime. Then we get up and do it all over again. And yes, dickhead John is a student." Nate smirked.

"Ah'm hopin' Ah get him for trainin'. Ah'd like to beat him a new one."

"John's strong," Warren warned. "He's a level four. Pyromaniac. You should be careful when you deal with him."

"Ah'll be as careful as Ah was with that bastard Wally Thorton," Nate promised. Warren gave him a disapproving look, but then there food (which appeared to be beef enchiladas) arrived and they both dropped it for a lighter topic.

An hour later, the two teenagers stumbled out of the building, laughing. Nate had just finished telling Warren about one of the pranks he had pulled on the principal involving water balloons, gelatin, and sporks. Warren felt his wings quiver, and his grin stretched even wider when he felt Nate slide a calloused hand into his own, tugging him to the car. The Stratus had long since disappeared, having belonged to a teenaged brunette girl who had glanced at them knowingly, a smile on her lips. They were still laughing when they reached the passenger door, and Nate ran a arm up Warren's side. He leaned in, his lips mere centimeters away from Warren.

"Ah had a good time, Warren. How 'bout you?" Warren pressed his lips together, his eyes darkening and he nodded. His lips brushed against Nate's, and he took that opportunity to grab him by the hips and pulled him the rest of the way. Their lips crashed together. Nate tasted like smoke, spice, and Coke, and Warren ran his hands up Nate's back.

Nate shivered as Warren pulled him close, claiming his mouth easily and quickly. Nate kissed back, mentally smiling as he felt Warren run tentative hands up his back. After a few scant moments, Nate pulled back, breathing a littler harder that normal. He sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He pulled back further, his hand gripping Warren's side. Warren's lips were red and swollen, and he had a slightly dazed look in his eyes. Nate smirked.

"Let's go finish this bak at the dorm, yeah?" Warren nodded, one hand grasping behind him, fumbling for the handle.

"Yeah." He licked his lips. "Let's."

Sabertooth stood at the edge of the tree's, watching the inky-haired boy. His glare narrowed upon singing him and that winged bastard kiss. He whipped out his outdated cell phone, and if it took a little longer than normal to dial, well, it certainly wasn't because of his long, feminine-like nails.

Not at all.

When he finally managed to dial, he huffed and held it up to his ear as he watched the two get into the black car and speed off. _That old bastard better answer or I swear I'll_-

His mental rant was cut off by a cold, imperious voice. "What is it, Mr. Creed, I am busy."

"I got the boy. The teleporter. He just sped off in some fancy-ass car with that Worthington kid," was his gruff reply. "There's somethin' goin' on between the two of 'em. They kissed."

"Hm, interesting..." Creed didn't like the contemplative tone of voice. It never sat well with his mental capacity to plan and strategize (which was nonexistant). "Thank you for the information, Creed, now get back to base. I want you to follow this boy a bit more before revealing yourself. I have plans for this boy, and I don't need you rushing in and disrupting these plans with your brash method of kidnapping. Understood?"

He grunted, and Magneto hung up. After flipping his phone closed his rolled his eyes, turning away from the road and bounding through the woods.

_Magneto was a crazy old coot..._

Magneto took a deep breath, pushing the now discarded phone away from him. He was so close to getting what he wanted, and the one mutant who could get him that was currently infatuated with the boy whose father tried to cure mutants. Foolish, foolish child. But he would not allow that _boy_ to ruin his plans.

No, no he would not.

**And perhaps this makes up for my frankly horrendous mistakes? **

**I don't own, forgive all mistakes, yadda yadda. **

**Also, just an FYI, I am a brunette female who owns a burgundy Dodge Stratus :D**


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